


Your Classroom or Mine?

by thelonelywriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Clothed Sex, Frottage, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, english teacher!Cas, history teacher!Dean, playful banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dean, we aren't supposed to do this here, not in my classroom," Castiel told him, though his voice wavered because he could smell the sweetness of Dean's breath, he could just reach out and touch him, he could bring him closer.<br/>"Would you prefer my classroom?" Dean asked, his lips moving closer to Castiel's. Cas could feel his heartbeat quicken, his moral decision to not end up getting each other off in his own classroom falling away slowly.<br/>"No," Cas squeaked, his eyes finding Dean's sparkling green ones. Dean grinned once again.<br/>"Then your classroom it is, Mr. Novak," Dean whispered, slipping one hand up to cup the side of Castiel's face as he drew them together, their lips meeting softly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Classroom or Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't too smutty of a work, but I have a thing for frottage and I got this idea and I just really wanted to write this okay? And there's a link [over here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4150029) to a little prequel if you'd fancy a read of that :3

Castiel Novak sat at his desk amidst a sea of ungraded papers for his English Honors class he taught the eleventh graders at Freeview High School. He chewed lightly on his pen, running his fingers through his hair as he tried desperately not think about a certain teacher that was on his mind. When him and said teacher were in the building their relationship was supposed to be professional, however, outside of the classroom, said teacher and Cas had been dating for almost a year. Castiel let out a breath of air, shutting his eyes tight before opening them, looking at the papers in front of him. Right, papers. Okay, he could do this.

Right as he was about to bring his pen down unto a paper, a voice echoed through his classroom, making his heart skip a beat. "Your classroom or mine?" Castiel looked over to see Dean Winchester, said teacher, who taught tenth grade History, opening the door and shutting it behind him, leaning back on it with a big grin. 

"Dean, you are going to be the death of me," Cas declared with a sigh, dropping his pen down.

"Is it because I'm so attractive and alluring?" he asked jokingly, waggling his eyebrows. Cas huffed a breath of laughter, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair.

"No," Castiel responded. Den stuck out his bottom lip, giving Cas puppy dog eyes that Castiel couldn't help but smile at. "Okay, fine, that's part of it," he agreed. Dean grinned, walking over to his desk.

"So why then am I going to be the death of you, Mr. Novak?" Dean asked, purposely using the name, knowing that it never failed to get Cas flustered. 

Castiel shot him a glare. "No, it's just... I've been thinking about you is all," Castiel muttered quietly, knowing exactly where Dean would take the conversation once those words slipped out. 

Dean cooly picked up Castiel's pen before sliding into one of the front row seats. "Oh really?" he asked, putting the pen between his lips, letting it sit there lightly, obviously drawing Cas' attention to it. 

"Yes, I um, I, it's uh..." Cas took a breath. "Dean can you stop that, you're distracting me," he hissed, his eyes still fixed on Dean's lips, on every move they made, every move his tongue made, flicking across the pen. Dean only grinned more, the pen hanging out of his mouth.

"Stop what, Cas?" Dean asked innocently. 

"You know what, Dean," Castiel simply stated, watching as Dean rose from his seat, taking the pen out of his mouth and placing it on Castiel's desk as he leaned over, his face only inches from Castiel's.

"I'm not sure I do," Dean said, glancing down at Castiel's lips.

"Dean, we aren't supposed to do this here, not in my classroom," Castiel told him, though his voice wavered because he could smell the sweetness of Dean's breath, he could just reach out and touch him, he could bring him closer.

"Would you prefer my classroom?" Dean asked, his lips moving closer to Castiel's. Cas could feel his heartbeat quicken, his moral decision to not end up getting each other off in his own classroom falling away slowly.

"No," Cas squeaked, his eyes finding Dean's sparkling green ones. Dean grinned once again.

"Then your classroom it is, Mr. Novak," Dean whispered, slipping one hand up to cup the side of Castiel's face as he drew them together, their lips meeting softly.

Castiel never grew tired of Dean, especially the way he kissed, the way he took Cas so sweetly in his arms or his hands and just let him feel Dean's lips on his own. Castiel had soon learned early on in their relationship that Dean could be rough when he wanted to, including his kisses. Sometimes they were scratchy stubble, desperate fumbling of mouths and sloppy tongues. However, Castiel never grew weary of either or any kind of kiss Dean gave. 

Today Castiel could tell was a day for rough kissing. Their lips started off smooth and soft, but soon enough Dean was deepening the kiss, bringing the hand that cupped Cas' face down to his tie, pulling him forward so that papers went scattering everywhere. Castiel would've let out an aggravated, 'Dean,' but he was too lost in the kiss, lost in the sensation of Dean's stubble scraping against his chin, his lips fitting together with Castiel's as his tongue swept hotly through Castiel's mouth.

Dean broke the kiss, slipping behind Castiel's desk to pull him towards him, bringing him as close as possible. "Dean," Castiel panted as Dean left kisses down his neck, his fingers undoing the first few buttons of his shirt as he loosened the tie.

"What?" Dean mumbled, nipping gingerly then roughly at Castiel's skin.

"We have to go in the closet, we can't make out on my desk by the window," Castiel told him, stifling a groan when Dean's fingers dug into the small of his back. Dean pulled back, leaning his forehead against Cas'.

"You're seriously gonna shove me in that tiny closet?" Dean asked incredulously as Castiel began tugging his arm. Castiel answered by, indeed, shoving Dean in that tiny closet following closely behind and pressing him against the wall, kissing him once again before closing the door. "Cas," Dean whined as Cas' hands wandered up Dean's shirt, feeling the hot skin there. "It's pitch black in here." Castiel rolled his eyes, even though Dean couldn't see.

"Do you want me to blow you or not?" Cas asked sassily, gaining a pause of silence from Dean.

"Yes," Dean answered quietly. Castiel smiled, kissing him as his hand traveled downwards pressing itself against the bulge in Dean's jeans. "Fuck, Cas," he muttered as Cas pressed his palm down even harder. Castiel began kissing, sucking bruises into Dean's neck, reveling in the soft moans Dean let out as Castiel trailed further and further down until he was on his knees, his fingers fumbling with the button and zipper.

Dean was just about to let out a sigh and Cas was just about to slip his hand past Dean's jeans when they both heard it. They paused, remaining completely still as they each heard the familiar sound of the janitor's cart rolling on linoleum floors accompanied by the janitor's whistling. Though it was completely dark, they each stared wide eyed at each other, listening as the sound slowly came closer. "Fuck, Dean I don't have time to blow you the fucking janitor is coming," Castiel hissed quietly up at Dean.

"Can't you get yourself off while you blow me and I'll be super quiet?" Dean compromised.

"And come all over the floor?" Castiel replied, the sounds of the janitor looming in the distance. Dean let out a low growl in his throat, his head falling lightly back against the wall. None of this was going as planned.

"Okay, well do you have any bright ideas?" Dean asked, desperate to get some relief for his aching cock.

Castiel thought for a moment, then an idea hit him. He zipped and buttoned Dean's jeans before standing up. "What are you doing?" Dean asked urgently. Castiel wasted no time pressing himself up against Dean, getting as close as he could.

"Frottage, clothed sex, that's what we're doing," Castiel told him, grinding up against him.

"Oh, so like you mean two teenagers desperate to get off so they come in their fucking pants?" Dean hissed.

"Dean, we're in a broom closet, the janitor is coming, and I would say we're both pretty desperate to get off," Castiel quipped back, thrusting his hips forward. Dean let out a quiet moan, his hips instinctively flying back towards Castiel's. Castiel ground down harder on him, their erections meeting, each man holding back a sound of pleasure, trying their best to stay completely quiet.

Dean grabbed Castiel's hips, bringing them forward into his, moving his own hips in little circles, feeling the intense want to find skin, to find anything, to find more than just layers of clothing rubbing against each other. Dean could feel the air hanging heavy in the small space of the broom closet, the sweat and breathy moans and gasps for air making it feel as though it were ninety-five degrees with no breeze. The two panted through it, desperately thrusting and grinding, each of them feeling the taunting pleasure that seeped through only slightly. 

Each of their hearts pounded as Castiel mouthed at Dean's neck, whispering his name in breathy pants, his hands frantically smoothing over Dean, feeling the lines, the curves, the parts that made his body, his body that Castiel was, admittedly, imagining naked. He could hear Dean's almost non-audible moans, his quickened breath and it made Castiel's blood pump even faster, the pounding of it heard in his ears, cutting through the silence of the room.

The pleasure in each of them grew and grew as the noise of the janitor's cart approached, each of them listening intently, grinding and rutting as fast and hard as they could, their legs nearly giving out with arousal and tension. As their hips moved frantically, Cas could feel himself sweating, he could feel the heat of Dean seeping through to him, and most of all he could feel his orgasm approaching, the one he thought he would never actually reach with all this damn rubbing up against each other. "Dean," he panted as he felt the cresting of his climax near. "Fuck, Dean, I'm gonna come," he muttered quietly, finally _finally_ feeling the wave of relief wash over him as he came, muffling a moan against Dean's shoulder.

Dean swore under his breath, feeling his own climax coming, but not quite arriving. In a last attempt he pressed his palm against his denim clad cock, rubbing over it a few times, bucking up into to feeling until he was coming too, harshly biting his lip to keep the noise in.

Castiel and Dean stood there in the darkness and stuffiness of the closet, breathing heavily as they listened to the janitor's cart stop right by Cas' classroom. There was a pause wherein they both held their breaths, and then it was over, the janitor's cart continued down the hall, happy whistling following in its wake. Castiel opened the closet as quick as possible, him and Dean falling out, hunched over the nearest desks or chairs they could find. "Do you know how uncomfortable it is to have drying come in your pants?" Dean hissed. Castiel shot him a glare.

"Yes, I do, because if you remember I came in my pants too," Cas stated. The two paused again, heavy breathing filling the classroom.

"You're coming over to my apartment tonight," Dean said, sitting back in a chair. "We're going to do what can't be done in that fucking broom closet," Dean told him.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into that broom closet," Castiel apologized, sitting next to Dean. "I'm also sorry I made you come in your pants," Castiel said, shifting in his seat at the mentioning of those words. Dean just huffed a breath of laughter.

"It's fine, it'll make a great anecdote one day," Dean said with a smirk, looking over at Castiel. Castiel chuckled.

"Oh, it definitely will."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this small little fic! I also just realized that there is incredible potential for a sequel *wiggles eyebrows* So you guys let me know if you'd like to see one and if you would what you'd like to see in it!!! Thank you so much for reading :3


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